


Reprieve

by helila



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Pre-Loyalty Mission, Pre-Relationship, absolute dumbasses to lovers but with 1 braincell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26181829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helila/pseuds/helila
Summary: "And though life will lay you downAs the lightning has lately doneFailing this, failing thisFollow me, my sweetest friendTo see what you anointedIn pointing your gun thereLay it down! Nice and slow!There is nowhere to go"
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Comments: 26
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to FerusAurelius for betaing this story!

Despite the name, not a single thing said “science” or “mythology” about Urania station. True, it drifted lazily in the sea of stars, but that’s where any relation to astronomy or astrology stopped.

It was very much like any other artificial construct out here in the Terminus systems; run-down, loud, only a degree safer than a slaver colony.

But it was good enough for the SR2 to dock, and for the crew to take a cigarette break, before returning to their usual schedule of life-threatening situations. 

Garrus stretched his neck, feeling the satisfying pop of the joints, a momentary distraction from his anxiety. To say he wasn’t happy would’ve been a grand understatement. He hated this place from the moment the ship began the docking procedures, and he hated it more with every step they took further into the station. The smell, the noise. The bodily odors of different races, metal, burnt food. Chatter and shouting occasionally drowned out by the crackling speakers.

_“Last call… passengers… Sumerian Wind…”_

_“Checking at dock 12…”_

_”The owner of the yellow Alkaz… please present at…”_

It didn’t help how oblivious Shepard seemed to be to all the danger lurking around them.

As they wove through the crowd of seemingly ordinary people, he spotted plenty of pocket cutters, dealers, prostitutes on the lookout for cargo pilots, and the usual variety of lowlives. But these weren’t the ones keeping him feeling uneasy.

He had learned a long time ago that the worst type of criminal was the one blending in perfectly next to the potential victims.

So he kept his eyes wide open.

He leaned against the railing on the upper level and watched the people moving about under them. An uneasy feeling dawned on him as memories of past C-SEC stakeouts—and various missions with his team—flooded his mind.

There was always a chance of nothing happening at all. Just like things could take a turn for the worse at any second.

Both the Citadel and Omega taught him a lot in their own ways. Mostly about the telling signs of a deviant. A mixture of races meant a lot of variety, but over time he had learned at least some of them. At least he hoped so.

At the same time, he couldn’t deny the thrill of being the quiet spectator, and knowing that he could also intervene if needed.

His omni-tool pinged him with a warning of his elevated heart rate, which he promptly ignored. Damn thing needed to be recalibrated.

Movement caught his attention from the side as Shepard arrived next to him, holding a brown paper cup of something that smelled strongly of coffee. Garrus very much doubted the genuinity of the product.

He watched as Shepard took a sip from it. She then followed up with a frown that definitely signaled the opposite of enjoyment. She squinted at the inside of the cup, carefully considering her options for a second, before taking another short sip.

Garrus couldn’t help but chuckle at such obstinacy. So very human.

“How’s the coffee, Commander?”

Shepard shot a glance at him, perhaps noticing the slight mockery in the turian’s voice.

“Fucking awful,” she muttered, swishing around the dark liquid. “I don’t know what I expected.”

Garrus turned around to survey the place where Shepard got her poison. He took a good look at the peeling paint, the bored human behind the counter, and the various patrons standing around, all of whom had obviously lost their sense of taste.

“Yeah, not a very good call.” He shook his head lightly before turning back to Shepard. The woman was casually leaning against the railing, cradling the drink in her hands, seemingly completely at ease. She wasn’t wearing her usual set of heavy armor, just a lighter plating on her suit, barely better than a sheet of paper. If a firefight broke out for whatever reason, he’d have to…

“Uh, Vakarian?” 

Her voice snapped him out of his quiet staring.

_Well, shit._

He pulled his attention back to the crowd, trying to pick up his scrambled thoughts. A little too late, he was uncomfortably aware of his own stupid self.

“Everything okay?”

Garrus suppressed a frustrated note from his subharmonics. Humans were quite inquisitive by nature, but spirits, Shepard was on a completely different level. He wouldn’t call it annoying per se, no, of course not.

He desperately wanted to open up to her, but his resolve always melted away into nothing the moment he actually had a chance to talk with her. So he pushed the feeling down. Day after day.

"Hey, Garrus?" Shepard's voice sounded distant through the haze of his emotions. "Talk to me, what's wrong?"

A scoff escaped his mouth.

 _Everything_ , he wanted to say, but that would've sounded overtly bleak, even coming from him.

He lifted his chin instead, gesturing at the masses below.

"Doesn't this remind you of anything?"

Shepard's eyebrows pulled into a confused frown as she looked over the place, trying to spot anything odd.

"Afraid not," she admitted at last, still scanning the crowd. "Looks like any other dingy space station to me."

"Right." Garrus nodded, short and sharp. "When I set out, after... after I quit at C-SEC, I thought that Omega was the big bad. But now, I can see the same faces, the same kind of people everywhere."

He paused for a second, feeling the same old pressure building up beneath his keel and pounding in his neck.

"The whole world is a shitshow. And with that prison ship gone, it's just going to get a bit more terrible."

He kept his eyes fixed on a distant point ahead of them. As if he could focus enough, and through the vastness of space spot the maniac stepping out of his escape pod. Eager to kill again on the unlucky planet they had managed to land on. 

"Things didn't exactly go according to plan," the Commander sighed, "but I am not sorry to see that place burn."

Garrus turned his head to Shepard and met her cool, blue eyes.

"Purgatory kept dangerous criminals locked away safely." 

"Safe is definitely not the word I would've used."

"But it worked!" He pushed himself away from the railing, now facing Shepard with his whole body. She watched him with a puzzled look on her face.

"Did it? Out of sight, out of mind—that's your idea of a solution?"

"Worked well enough for me on Omega."

"Are you sure about that?"

Garrus sucked in a deep breath. If turians possessed the ability to go pale, he would've turned about as white as the Noveria snow. In lieu of that, he felt a cold twinge run through the nerves in his body. He was faintly aware of another ping from his omni-tool.

 _Let it go_. In another life, he would've backed down and reconsidered his stance. In another life where they were still on the SR1, bickering in the hangar bay beside the MAKO, and the Collectors had never come to tear it all apart. In another life where he hadn't become Archangel.

And failed.

"What do you know." The words fell out of his mouth before he could even think them. Before he could stop them. "I spent two years of my life on that disgusting dump. Every day, for two spirits-damned years, working and fighting for the people who had no one else to turn to! Facing down the worst kind of shitheads, criminal scum, while you..."

His jaw snapped shut with a click, mandibles tight against his cheeks.

_While you were gone. Dead._

The pain flared between his ribs like an incendiary grenade. As the weight of his own words settled in, he watched their effects on Shepard.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from her face. Eyes wide, brows furrowed tightly. Her lips, slightly parted. Flushed skin over her cheeks. Alive. It was difficult to imagine the opposite. Suffocated. Cold.

_Spirits fucking damn it._

It was too late to take it all back. Shepard straightened and exhaled deeply, clearing away the emotions from her face. Somehow that hurt more than if she had started yelling at him.

"Shepard, I—" he began, his secondary vocals quivering apologetically. But the Commander silenced him with a hand raised between them.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up. Maybe it's best we talk about this some other time."

"But—"

"I should go." 

It sounded final and Garrus's shoulders sagged with defeat. He watched in silence as the Commander downed the rest of her drink without the slightest cringe. Their eyes met again, making his heart sink even deeper into his chest.

“See you back on the ship. Undocking in two hours.”

With that, she turned on her heel and left. Garrus watched her march away with fast, measured steps. The sea of people parted before her, not wanting to get in the way of this unstoppable force. Even without her arsenal of weapons and high grade armor, Shepard had “danger” written all over her. In a place like this, that was as much an alarming sight as a tempting one for some.

Garrus took a hesitating step ahead, feeling pulled after her. She could get into trouble. Get hurt.

_She could die._

Garrus flexed his taloned fingers. He had already fucked up badly enough, and shouldn’t add insult to injury by bothering his Commander even more.

Shepard had long disappeared from sight. As he stared ahead, his worried gaze was met by a trio of construction workers passing before him. One of them, a batarian looked him up and down before lightly elbowing their human buddy in the side. Garrus didn’t particularly care for their attention, but this was a good enough incentive to move on.

He picked a direction somewhat parallel to Shepard’s and began walking at a casual pace. No one else seemed to take notice of him.

He pulled up his omni-tool, dismissing a dozen notifications, and opened up a small map with the Commander’s location. Just in case.

The station offered little more than nothing in the way of entertainment, but he didn’t want to be distracted, anyway. So he spent his time wandering around, always in close enough proximity to Shepard, as the minutes dragged on. His initial hatred mellowed into mild disgust and finally boredom as he explored more of the passageways.

By the time Shepard’s icon began to move back towards the docks, Garrus had a pretty good idea about the station’s layout. He definitely figured out the shadier locations, like the so-called “bar” that served as a front for exotic food smuggling, or the alley next to the kebab shop. The latter had two asari commandos standing guard. The place he stopped to grab some dextro food was run by a former Blue Suns merc, he was fairly sure about that. Just like he was sure about the guns under the counter.

Unwritten, unspoken laws. Invisible lines drawn on the metal floors, where one territory ended and the other began. Child’s play compared to life on Omega.

The number of concealed weapons he spotted were way below average. Since it meant the difference between life and death on Omega, no one would even go take a dump without a conveniently hidden gun or something capable of stabbing.

He could still remember one time, back when he was fairly new to the place, spotting a gutsy batarian thug trying to mug a seemingly helpless old human lady. Before Garrus could even open his mouth to yell, the woman pulled out a long hairpin from her neatly combed hair. In a blur of movement, the batarian ended up on the ground, screaming bloody murder. The pin was sticking out from their upper right eye. It wasn’t lethal, but it was enough of a deterrent to gain the old woman a chance to leave.

It was only much later, when he learned through Sensat, the implications of such an injury. On Omega, it wasn’t simply enough to defend yourself and live another day. You had to make a statement.

His hand rose involuntarily and touched his bandaged cheek.

Here, people saw an armored and well-equipped turian with a busted up face. That was enough of a “stay the fuck away” to anyone with a sensible mind. Good enough for him. Even if his adamance on bringing his gun made Lawson roll her eyes, and further upset the station’s security agents.

A few people shot him a curious glance, but nothing more. No one bothered him and he didn’t see anything worthy of intervention, so he circled back. Keeping his distance, but steadily trailing behind Shepard.

During his life on the Citadel, and his failed career as a C-SEC officer, he got used to being ignored and simply keeping to himself. It was better than constantly getting berated and yelled at.

In a most welcomed change, Shepard had taken an interest in his thoughts. The curious intent sparkling in her eyes and the calm tone of her questions were reassuring signs of her sincerity. 

Lately, however, he found himself tense up whenever Shepard would approach him to talk. It had gotten gradually worse as more time passed since his rescue from Omega, and he still hadn't found the courage to spill the details. He thought about it every day. Woke up and went to sleep with the faces and names haunting him. One in particular taunting him the most.

He got used to having a team. With them gone, his world became painfully empty and silent. Nothing but his own sorrowful thoughts and memories keeping him company. Nothing made sense anymore. 

If anyone had the capacity to understand, it would be Shepard.

Some days, he could feel the words pile up in his throat, and he wanted nothing more than to let them free. Maybe then he could breathe easy again.

Maybe if he let the facade crumble down, and let Shepard see him for who he really was, he'd find absolution in her judgement.

However, he had a suspicious feeling about that chance being completely gone.

Opening his map again, he checked their location. If he took the stairs now, he could get an upper view on Shepard’s route for a long section of the walk. Sounded like a good plan.

It wasn’t difficult to spot her. Still keeping a steady pace, Shepard had her hands shoved inside her pockets and her gaze pointed at the ground. She was close enough that Garrus’s visor could pick up her vital signs, but far enough for him to remain hidden.

He had never felt so distant from her before. Not even while she was dead. The thought made him want to jog ahead, meet up with Shepard, and try to salvage their friendship. But a potential second argument sounded bad enough to keep him back.

His mandibles fluttered anxiously as Shepard passed by a rusty pillar and a lanky asari leaning against it. Just as the girl spotted the Commander, she quickly reached out, grabbing Shepard by the elbow and yanking her back. Garrus’s fingers were immediately hovering over his handgun. It wouldn’t take longer than a second to detach it from his side. The shot would be clean.

His visor zoomed in on Shepard’s face. Her eyebrows were knitted in a severe frown, her teeth flashing from beneath her lips. He knew that humans could be vicious in self-defense, not shying away from biting, despite their strange, flat teeth. Over the intercom announcements and the crowd’s noise he couldn’t hear them, but he could assume the words leaving the Commander’s mouth weren’t exactly kind in nature. 

Whatever she had said worked, as the asari’s hands shot up apologetically. Shepard poked a finger at her, mouthing something probably along the lines of “get your shit together or feel my wrath.” The asari nodded wildly, which seemed to satisfy the Commander. 

She turned away, continuing her walk. Garrus held still, waiting for the asari to make so much as a vulgar gesture. But the girl simply backed away and disappeared into an alley. 

He let out a sigh of relief. His hand relaxed and fell back next to his side. Only then did he look around, and notice the lack of people around him.

_Time to move._

It was highly unlikely that Shepard would run into any further trouble now, so he lagged a little more behind. Probably for the better to avoid boarding at the same time. Getting back to the Main Battery and sulking alone in peace sounded divine by now.

There was still nearly an hour left in their shore leave, and luckily that meant no one crossing paths with him as he returned. Aside from the ship’s AI, no one greeted him.

Leaving his equipment in the armory, he retreated into his safe space. After the doors hissed closed behind him, he took a minute to lean against the wall and breathe deeply. The familiar deep hum of the ship filled him with relief. This might not have been home, but it was damn close to it.

He stepped up to the consoles to busy himself with some work. Thankfully, he could always find something to tinker with, perfecting the scores, polishing up some algorithms. Soon enough, he was lost in the flow. Before he knew it, the crew had returned and the ship was preparing for takeoff.

Per usual, everything went smoothly. The Normandy left port, and Garrus was happy to never see Urania station again.

The incident slowly began to fade from his mind as their distance grew, and he got deeper into his work. Hopefully, Shepard was also in the process of forgetting. That way, they never had to talk about it again! 

_Everyone wins._

The hours grew late, and he was becoming more certain about Shepard deciding to let the whole thing slide. Surely, she had other, more pressing issues. Colonies to save. Conspiracies to uncover.

What was their little argument, in a galaxy full of suffering and injustice?

_Barely more than a footnote._

Yet, it gnawed at him like a rabid varren.

Maybe he should talk to Shepard.

Just as he turned around, the doors slid open to reveal a tall figure anxiously folding her hands. She stopped in her tracks as their eyes met.

“Garrus!”

“Shepard?”

For a couple heartbeats, they stood still. Then Garrus made a sort of “come in” gesture and Shepard skipped inside. The door closed, and silence settled on the pair.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry…” she said, just as Garrus began to talk.

“I wanted to apologize…”

They both stopped. Shepard’s head tilted to the side, with an astonished and curious look on her face.

“Why do you…”

“Shepard, please.” Garrus raised his hands. “Let me explain first.”

“Alright.” She nodded.

“Alright,” he repeated, suddenly having difficulty finding the right words. In the dimly lit room, the shadows gave Shepard a more otherworldly look, making her seem more like an apparition than flesh and blood reality.

With a heavy sigh, he tore his gaze away from her.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Everything that happened on Omega was my own making, with my own mistakes. It had nothing to do with you. I’m just…” He took a shuddering breath as the memories bubbled up to the surface. Screams and gunfire echoed in his mind. He could still picture the light fading from his last comrade’s eyes. Feel the powerless, desperate rage making his hands shake as he pulled the cover over them.

“Garrus…”

“Don’t try to convince me that it’s not my fault, please.” He shook his head. “I should have known better. I should have done better. I tried my best on Omega, and it still wasn’t enough. And my team had to pay the price.”

Do it right, or don’t do it at all. Why couldn’t he _just listen._

“It’s not fair,” he continued quietly. “It was all on me, and I still made it out alive. But they didn’t.”

“I’m so sorry.” Shepard’s voice was laden with regret. “I’m so damn sorry, Garrus. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He looked back at her again, but only for a second as he felt his throat blush blue.

“I know,” he murmured, trying to tame his subvocals.

“You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.” She sounded reassuring. 

Garrus only hummed in response, not wanting to interrupt. 

"It’s clear as day that you carry a great deal of pain, that I don’t want to add to. But I can also see how this changed you and…” Shepard stepped closer, so close in fact that Garrus would only have to reach an arm out to touch her.

“I want to understand, but it’s hard. You are so different now. I can see it here on the ship, and the missions, and every moment in between. And I know you want to change the world for the better, but God, at what cost?”

 _Any_ , he thought. Wasn’t that the correct answer? The selfless, devoting way of life that kept the universe a safe place?

“That prison ship was an atrocity committed in the name of justice. I can’t bear watching you go down on the same path as Warden Kuril.” Shepard’s voice quivered. “I really miss my friend. I don’t have a lot of those left, and I’d hate to lose one more.”

He couldn’t _not_ look at her. He knew his mandibles were hanging loose, like he was some silly, gawking fledgling.

Something behind his keel was twisting and squeezing, and he couldn’t decide whether in terror or euphoria.

He was looking at her, the same person that would tell terrible jokes, pester him with old human music, listen to his tales from C-SEC. Her face, her body, her voice. The same features he had memorized and would never forget.

He was staring again.

_Spirits damn it._

“Uh… I…” His voice rasped in his throat. “Um. Yes. Same.”

Shepard’s lips parted in a charming smile, which Garrus reciprocated in his own turian way. Then she held out a hand in the standard form of human greeting.

“Friends?”

Garrus chuckled, then took her hand and gave it a good squeeze. It was soft and warm in his palm.

“Friends.”

She held his hand just a heartbeat longer than what Garrus usually deemed formal, and he couldn’t ignore the twinge of sadness when they separated. Whatever that meant, he didn’t want to think about it. Not now.

_Don’t make it awkward._

“By the way—” Shepard raised an eyebrow that gave her a mischievous look. “Next time you want to hang out, there’s no need to keep your distance like that.”

It took a couple seconds before he understood.

_Oh no._

“Oh… well, uh… I…”

“No, no, it’s okay!” she chortled. “Little bit weird, but okay.”

“Just wanted to make sure no one bothered you.” Once again, Garrus was grateful that humans didn’t have the ability to hear his very, very ashamed subvocals.

“Well, I took care of myself, didn’t I?”

“That you did.”

Shepard batted her eyelashes at him, the meaning of which he had absolutely no idea. Some human mannerisms were still a mystery for him.

“Care to keep me company while I raid the Cerberus snack supplies?” She nodded her head in the direction of the door.

Garrus’s mandibles spread in an honest smile.

“Right behind you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Well, what is this craziness?  
> This crazy talking?  
> You caught some small death  
> When you were sleepwalking
> 
> It was a dark dream, darlin;  
> It’s over  
> The firebreather is beneath the clover"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for MyrddinDerwydd and drladybird for betaing this beast!

Weeks and weeks passed. Seemed like everyone’s past had suddenly come back to haunt them. Between handling those and the more mundane missions, the crew rarely had more than a few uneventful days to rest. Garrus didn’t exactly mind. Shepard had kept him busy, bringing him along on nearly every occasion. Not a lot of time left to overthink when projectiles were zipping around his head and the Commander was charging ahead, yet again. For an engineer, Shepard could be real damn reckless sometimes. He lost count how many times she had yelled about “drawing their fire.” More than he was comfortable with.

Regardless, Garrus definitely had more fun on these missions, than on any of the team building night-outs that Shepard _really_ insisted on doing for some reason. She wanted to get to know her new crew in more friendlier settings. He felt more comfortable bonding over cooperative kills. But if Shepard wanted him to sit in some bar and endure Zaeed’s umpteenth story about something highly illegal and dangerous he had committed, Garrus would simply drown his displeasure in a drink. If it made Shepard happier to have him sit at the same table with Operative Lawson, he wasn’t going to complain. 

Truth be told, he felt less resentment towards the Cerberus agent now than before. She definitely deserved to get knocked down a notch, but watching her lose the only friend she had made Garrus sympathize. Betrayal was a nasty business. That, he knew well.

Guilt too. Yes, he knew guilt more than anything.

Sometimes, on the rare occasion when the stars had aligned in favor and the booze would lessen his reservations, he’d notice himself sinking into the warmth of amity and looking at the others with newfound respect. They were his squadmates after all. Crooked and a bit unpredictable, but a team regardless. 

Then it would hit him like a sharp knife piercing his plates; guilt.

Had he been a better leader, he would be sharing a drink with his old squad. Zaeed was not Erash. Jack was not Ripper. Monteague would’ve been a thousand times better to talk with, than Jacob. Mierin mentioned at least a dozen times how much she would’ve loved to meet Shepard.

Now she was dead. Shepard was not. The universe sure had a sick sense of humor.

Part of him wanted to move on. He knew this was an anchor, holding him back from really supporting Shepard. But he would sooner blind himself than let their deaths go unavenged. He owed them as much. Someone had stolen away their lives and futures, undone all their hard work. An insidious crime. But Sidonis could only run so far. Garrus was going to find him and make him suffer the consequences. It was only a matter of time.

When the intel finally came through from an old C-SEC colleague, the adrenaline rushed through his body like liquid fire. His moment of reckoning was near. For a moment, he considered asking for leave from Shepard and going after the traitor by himself. After all, this business was as personal as it gets. That turian had been his friend once and putting a bullet between his eyes didn’t concern anyone else. They were the only two left alive. And then there would be one.

On the other hand, going alone sounded… _well, lonely_. Garrus had seen Shepard guide Miranda and Mordin through their own challenges. When their resolve buckled, the Commander was there to keep them going. In complete honesty, he craved the same attention and support they’ve got. He wanted to feel secure and know that Shepard has his back.

Garrus was still in doubt as he left the main battery to take the elevator up to the CIC. If Sidonis had any sense left, he must have gained some protection with the money he took. On his own, Garrus might not be able to reach him. The success of this operation could hinge on whether the Commander agrees to help him or not.

The doors slid open, and Garrus stepped out. Shepard was nowhere to be seen. Instead he was greeted by the short, ginger haired yeoman.

“Hello there!” Chambers smiled and stepped away from her console, towards him. “Can I help you, Officer Vakarian?”

“I need to speak with the Commander.”

“I see.” Her smile broadened. “She’s busy in the armory. Would you like to leave a message for her?”

“No.” Garrus turned away from the woman and began to walk towards the Armory. As the door opened and he stepped through, he could just hear the yeoman’s hesitant voice.

“Oh… okay.”

Just as promised Shepard was inside, sitting on a stool in front of one of the weapons benches. _Alone_ , Garrus noted with relief. The Commander didn’t seem to notice him entering as she hunched over a dismantled pistol, carefully cleaning the parts. That damn Tuchanka dust could get into the most impossible places. 

Garrus slowly took a few steps closer, suddenly unsure how to get Shepard’s attention. In a way, it would’ve felt rude to disrupt her. There was something undeniably serene in the way she sat there, immersed in her work.

Her dark brown hair was tied up in a tight bun, with only a few rogue strands hanging loose around her face. Her mouth was moving, quietly forming the words of a song that was filtering out from her earbuds, while her feet tapped to the rhythm on the floor. The music was loud enough that Garrus could hear some of it. Metallica, if he had to take a guess.

He just took another tentative step forward, when Shepard noticed the movement. Her gaze shot up at him.

“Oh fuck!” She jumped in fright, nearly falling off the stool. Clutching her hands to her chest, she let out a breathy laugh. “Goddamnit, you scared me!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Garrus’s mandibles fluttered nervously. 

_Great start._

“What?” Shepard pulled out her earplugs. The noise of heavy metal poured out of them. 

_…massive roar fills the crumbling sky,_

_shattered goal fills his soul with a ruthless cry…_

“Sorry, I didn’t hear that…”

“I just said I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Oh! Alright, no grudge.”

Orange glow lit up her face as she pulled out her omni-tool and tapped away, until the music stopped completely. Only silence remained. Their eyes met again and Garrus noticed a smudge of dirt across her right cheek. Before he could think, his hand reached out to wipe it away.

 _The hell am I doing_ , he thought while correcting his move and tapped his fingers on his own cheek instead.

“You got a little-”

Shepard’s hand rose to the left side of her face.

“No, the other-”

“Oh.”

Her fingers found the smear and made it worse in the process. Disappointment wrinkled her brow as she realized the futility of the situation. With a sigh, she dropped her hands into her lap.

“Nothing is ever easy” she grumbled. Turning her attention back to him, Shepard’s expression softened. A smile played in the corners of her mouth.

“So, what brings you here Garrus?”

“Remember when I told you…” he began in a low, tense voice. “That one of my own people sold out our location? That he emptied his accounts and left Omega while the gangs were shooting up my team?”

Immediately, the smile disappeared from the Commander’s face. She nodded quietly.

“I know where Lantar Sidonis is. He is the one that betrayed us.”

“Where?”

“On the Citadel. He tried to go under a different name, with help from a forger called Fade.”

“You’re positive it’s him?” Shepard leaned closer.

“Yes.”

All he could hear was the rush of blood in his ears, and Shepard’s breathing. Beneath her thick lashes, her blue eyes were regarding him with a serious look, as if trying to look directly into his soul.

“You want to go after him.” 

It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to kill him?”

“Yes.”

Shepard let out a deep exhale and straightened her back. Garrus could see the reluctance on her, in the way her mouth turned into a stiff frown.

“Is there anything I can say that would change your mind?”

His subvocals answered first, though Shepard couldn’t hear them.

_No. Never._

“He owes me ten lives, Shepard. I plan to collect.”

For a brief moment, neither of them moved or spoke. Then Shepard nodded, slid off her chair. She stepped up to him and in a surprising move, placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. Garrus tensed up under her touch.

“I’ll set a course for the Citadel,” she said in a gentle voice.

For a moment, the warmth of her skin made him forget everything. The ache in his soul, body and heart. But only for a moment.

“Thank you,” he replied quietly.

She nodded and without any further words, let him go and walked out of the room. 

The feeling of her touch still lingered on Garrus’s arm. He placed his own hand over it, as if trying to keep back the sensation from fading. His gaze wandered around the room and finally settled on the dismantled Carnifex lying on the table. 

_Mission first._

The weapons locker was just right by the door. Garrus opened it and removed his M-92 Mantis from the inside. Aside from a few scratches and scorch marks, the weapon was in nearly mint condition. He had made sure of that. Sure, not the best sniper rifle on the market, but damn reliable and a perfect instrument of death in the right hands. Exactly what he needed to get the job done on Omega.

He took the rifle to the free weapon’s bench and began to disassemble it with quick but precise moves.

_It was good enough for the mercs. It will be good enough for Sidonis._

By the time EDI had announced docking procedures, he was long done with his equipment check. In fact, he even managed to squeeze in time for some calibrations. Everything was in order. He was ready. In sharp contrast with the frantic emotions he’d been dealing with in past weeks, now his inner world had quieted down completely. He hadn’t felt this calm in years.

The Commander was already waiting for him by the exit to the docking tube when he walked through the CIC. Her teal colored armor shone in the deck lights, polished sparkly clean. Shepard was well known for her love of neatness. Even her hair was combed back tightly, leaving no chance of stray hairs. The offending dirt smear was gone from her face too. Instead, a Kuwashii visor covered the right side of her head, the interface giving her dark brown skin a faint blue glow.

Garrus’s subvocals rumbled in approval. He preferred visors to helmets too.

“Good to go?” Shepard asked.

“Yes.” He nodded, before taking a glance behind him at the empty CIC corridor. “Just the two of us?”

She responded with a small shrug.

“Guessed that three might be a crowd on this mission.”

His mandibles fluttered with a relieved smile. True, he didn’t exactly mind this being a two person job.

“Good guess.”

“We can still call for backup, in case things turn ugly in some strange, unexpected way.”

 _As they usually do_ , Garrus finished the sentence in his mind. Noveria. Feros. Boring and ordinary occurrences were in the minority with Shepard around. Yet, he felt no fear about relying only on her.

“I’m sure it won't be necessary.”

Besides, these days he rarely placed all his trust in anyone other than Shepard. The fewer people involved in his business, the better. Well, _EDI knew for sure_ , being the brain of the SR2 and all; but Garrus wasn’t quite certain if she counted as a person. And if the Illusive Man had any common sense, he’d be surely monitoring all incoming and outcoming communications. 

_So technically, half of Cerberus could be in the know already…_

The smooth voice of the AI interrupted his thoughts.

“Docking tube is secure and open. You may proceed, Commander.”

“Thanks EDI,” Shepard answered, stepping forward to the opening doors.

They entered the docking tube. Before the doors slid close behind them, Garrus heard EDI repeat the old protocol message.

“The Commanding Officer is ashore. XO Lawson has the deck.”

Once outside, Shepard activated her omni-tool and seemingly tried to locate the responder for something.

“Ah,” she exclaimed, once the tool pinged with a confirmed match. She turned towards the skycar lot, further away from the dock.

“I’ve requested transport for us. It should be right over there.”

They began walking towards the rows of perfectly parked, nearly identical vehicles.

“Good thing you have that,” Garrus poked at Shepard’s omni-tool, “because I don’t think we would ever figure out which one to take otherwise.”

“Yeeah…” she frowned. “Not a lot of variety to these designs.”

Shortly after, she stopped at a skycar with a slightly faded paint job and entered something on the omni-tool’s UI. The vehicle whirred alive, activating its front and rear lights. It rose slightly above the ground, just enough for comfortable entry.

Shepard stepped to the driver’s side and pressed at the door’s opening mechanism, as Garrus did the same on the other side.

The doors lifted up and they climbed inside. Shepard had to adjust the seat and the steering to human measures, while Garrus pushed his own seat back to make space for his legs.

“Are human cars this troublesome too?” he asked while struggling with the safety belts.

“Which one do you mean, air or ground ones?” she answered in a strained voice, as she bent forward with an arm under her seat, trying to find the pull lever. 

“Try that.” Garrus pointed at a handle on the side.

“Shit, right,” she grumbled. “See, human designs usually have these under there.”

The seat realigned itself to Shepard’s satisfaction.

“I’m more used to ground vehicles anyways, flying was never my thing. But put me into something with wheels and I can drive it anywhere!”

“Suuure.”

Flashbacks of the Mako stuck in impossible positions, turned upside down and nearly falling into lava emerged in Garrus’s mind. Shepard was great at many things, but he wouldn’t put driving among them.

“Now…” Shepard raised her index finger at him. “I didn’t say it would be graceful, or-”

“Safe.”

“Or safe! I may not be the best driver in the galaxy, Garrus Vakarian, but there isn’t a single ground vehicle I can’t handle.” A proud grin enveloped her face.

“They have yet to build it.”

She threw back her head and erupted into laughter. Garrus watched with amusement, unable to keep himself from chuckling along with her.

“Screw you, Garrus.” She jokingly swiped a hand at him. “I can even drive a combine.”

“That’s new.” He raised his browplates in curiosity.

“Yeah my dad taught me on the… uh, on the farm-” her voice trailed off and the jaunty mood vanished as quickly as it came.

Mindoir wasn’t something that they discussed often. He sure wasn’t going to start now. At complete loss of what to say, he let the quietness fall over the two of them like a heavy blanket.

Shepard was the first to break the silence.

“So, where are we headed to?”

It never took her more than a couple seconds to switch back to her steady, professional self. For all intents and purposes, they were still on a mission.

“We should speak to Bailey. He should know about Fade or point us in the right direction.”

“Right.”

Shepard entered the nav point into the skycar’s system. The engine’s soft hum turned into a deeper rumble as it powered up and lifted them into the air. They took off fast, with the port disappearing behind them as they merged into the traffic lane. At this time of the day cycle, not a lot of people were traveling and luckily that meant no jamming or reckless drivers. Shepard kept strictly to the speed limit, though Garrus was sure that “Spectre Authority” would easily cover the traffic violations.

He stared out the passenger window, watching the blur of buildings and colorful advertisements.

 _“The life you deserve, in Sior District!”_ a young asari with an enchanting smile winked at him from a giant display, before the screen switched to the mentioned residential area. Lush gardens and public parks, the kind with real plant life. High rise buildings, with spacious apartments. Each with their own huge balcony of course.

Garrus scoffed. These well-edited snapshots fooled a lot of people, including his younger self. It was fair too easy to believe that a comfortable life with all the luxury you could ever wish for, was just an arm’s reach away. It was only a matter of time and an unexpected good opportunity. Anyone could end up on that balcony overlooking a beautiful fake sunset, while drinking a tall glass of expensive _vittrolio_. Perhaps with someone attractive on your side.

 _What a well-constructed, pretty lie_.

At least Omega was honest about what it offered. Beneath the Citadel’s carefully polished surface and the guise of civilization, it was just as rotten.

Their skycar began pulling out of the main lane and towards a designated landing zone.

“We’re here,” Shepard stated.

As she set down in the parking lot, Garrus could already hear the usual noise. Chatter and the voice of targeted advertisements flooded him after he stepped out of the vehicle.

While Shepard was dealing with the parking fees, he took some time to look around. Level 27 of Zakera Ward was bustling, mostly with new arrivals stumbling from one gift shop to another. Thanks to the nearby docks, none of the owners here had to worry about running out of customers.

A heavy sigh from Shepard hit his ears.

“Twenty-second century, but parking is still a pain in the ass.” She shuffled up next to him. “Let’s go see what our favourite cop is up to.”

The C-SEC office was only a couple minutes walk away. On the way, they had to dodge a volus who was too lost in his datapad to notice two heavily armored people approaching. Otherwise, surprisingly few people paid them mind.

Bailey on the other hand, noticed them right away as they drew near to the building’s entrance. Apparently, he was in the middle of a break, leaning against the wall with a burning cigarette in one hand. He was waving at them with the other one.

“Shepard, Vakarian,” he greeted them in his gravelly voice. “What brings you here?”

“I’m hoping you can help us find someone,” Shepard replied.

Bailey’s gaze shifted between them. The officer was around average height, unlike Shepard who towered over him. Next to her and Garrus, Bailey looked like a “travel size” human.

“Who?”

“A forger called Fade.”

“Aha.” Recognition lit up the man’s eyes, then he turned to Garrus. “Now I see why this was sent to me earlier then.”

He put the cigarette into his mouth, then pulled up his omni-tool and gestured at Garrus to do the same. As soon as he did, a file began to transfer to his device.

“The bastard is elusive”, Bailey muttered while the cigarette wiggled with each word. 

As soon as the transfer finished, he took the cigarette back into his hand. A cloud of smoke left his mouth.

“I’m pretty sure they have an inside source or have access to our communications,” he continued. “I’d be glad to see them gone. This is the best lead we got for you; a warehouse in the lower levels.”

He turned to Shepard with an apologetic half-smile.

“Sorry. I’m sure you’ll figure out something though.”

“We usually do.” Shepard held out her hand for a shake. “Thanks, Bailey.”

They shook hands, but then Bailey pointed back at Garrus.

“Nah, thank his friend on the inside,” he said and turned to face him. “You still got a few of those at C-SEC, you know?”

Garrus felt something grip his heart. He nodded.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He hadn’t left his workplace on the friendliest note and could only assume what the aftermath might have been like. Making friends had never been his strong suit. Keeping any of them, even less so. Maybe if he would have sacrificed some of the overnight shifts for a couple drinks with them. Maybe if he could talk about other things than work. Maybe if he had taken the effort of saying goodbye to some of them, before he left the station for good… but he didn’t. Any expectation whatsoever of his colleagues remembering him with fondness seemed straight out foolish.

Apparently, he was wrong to think so.

As they walked away in silence with Shepard, she ran through the information that Bailey had passed on.

“Trafono warehouse” she hummed. “I assume this Fade will have backup.”

“Nothing we can’t handle.” Garrus shrugged.

“Let’s hope they are the talkative kind.” Shepard gave him a teasing look. “Good Spectre - Bad Cop?”

He let out an offended laugh.

“We’ll never even get to the ‘Bad Cop’ part!”

Her hands rose in an apologetic shrug, but the smile on her face said she wasn’t sorry at all. When Garrus responded with an indignant snort, her mouth turned into a full on grin.

“Alright, tell you what” she chuckled, “I’ll let you go first. Do your scary turian thing and make them confess their sins. If it doesn’t work, I’ll take over.”

“My scary turian thing?” Garrus slowed down his steps and stared at her curiously.

“Yeah! You know the-” Shepard sucked in a deep breath, puffing out her chest while she pulled her chin closer to her neck. Her brows creased into an intense, angry frown. She looked a hundred percent ridiculous.

“Is th…” Garrus sputtered, “is that your turian impression?”

They both stopped and Shepard relaxed her features.

"Yeah?”

“I-” he began, desperately trying to keep down a laugh. “Shepard, no.”

“I’ve seen you do this!” She pointed at him. “You all do it!”

“You all do it?” Garrus’s browplates jumped up. His mandibles were quivering with the effort to keep a straight face. “Wow. Racist.”

Shepard made a face like she just accidentally stepped on a puppy’s foot.

“No! No, no, that’s not what I meant!” she whispered loudly, while her eyes darted around. As if anyone was around, trying to listen into their silly conversation.

“Commander Lina Shepard, first human Spectre. Raging xenophobe” he chortled, while Shepard kept trying to shush him. “I see how Cerberus has radicalized you.”

“Shut up!”

“Oh so now you are attacking me verbally! The Council will hear about this!”

“God, you are awful. Worst turian ever.”

“And yet,” he bumped her lightly in the shoulder, “you keep hanging out with me.”

“Keep making fun of me like that, and you’ll lose that privilege,” she muttered, but with an undeniable playfulness in her voice.

There was a twinkle in her eyes Garrus noticed more often these days. It was one of those things he’d keep finding himself mulling over, usually while in the middle of something else. He couldn’t understand what it meant, or why it even mattered to him. But it certainly kept him from staying focused.

“Umm,” he cleared his throat with a cough, “we should take the elevator to the warehouse’s level.”

“Right, right.” Shepard nodded. “We should.”

They completed the rest of the journey in silence. It seemed like the citizens of the Citadel were truly unfazed by their presence. While living on Omega, Garrus had gotten used to watchful eyes following his every move. Here, people were seemingly too busy with their own fabulous lives, even with a freshly resurrected Spectre walking among them.

 _Or maybe_ , he thought, _a fully armored and supposedly dead Spectre accompanied by a mean looking turian, was simply thought best to be avoided. The two of them definitely didn’t look like they were up to anything good._

When boarding the elevator, they found themselves facing a perturbed crowd in the car. Garrus shifted uncomfortably as they settled inside, trying not to step on anyone’s feet or get his armor caught in someone’s clothing. Personal space was nearly non-existent. 

Shepard was so close, he caught a whiff of what must have been her shampoo. It made him think of endless fields of wildflowers. Blue skies with only a hint of clouds. The warmth of the Sun. The warmth of Shepard’s hand on his arm.

Despite trying his best to not look at her directly, their eyes met once for a brief moment. His heart pounded loud in his chest. Surely, she must have heard it.

_Spirits, can this be over already?_

Luckily, the ding of the elevator saved him. Impatient, he immediately stepped towards the coveted escape. A reproachful thrum of subvocals hit him, as he bumped into an elderly turian woman and Garrus responded with apologetic notes in the same way.

He let out a sigh of relief when they finally exited. The warehouse was now only a short distance away, but it was a long enough walk for him to calm down and gather his thoughts. He couldn’t afford to be distracted right now.

The closer they got to their destination, the quieter and emptier the corridors became. Another thing to confirm their suspicions about what might await them.

In front of the doors, he looked back at Shepard for affirmation. 

“Permission to be a ‘Bad Cop’?”

“Granted,” she said with a smirk.

The tingle of excitement rushed through Garrus’s arm, making his hands ball into a fist. Finally, it was his time to shine.

He triggered the door’s opening mechanism and stepped through, with the Commander following closely behind. The dim lighting inside didn’t suggest anything good.

It only took a couple of his steps inside for one well-armed krogan to appear from the right. His friend of the same kind shortly followed suit from left. Garrus glanced at the shotguns they both cradled in their arms. Not pointed at them yet, a very good sign. But a warning none the less.

“Where is Fade?” he asked in a flat tone.

No answer. After a long second, the unmistakable sound of a breather mask’s air filter broke the silence.

_Kssh._

“Here.” 

The short, round form of a volus came forward from the shadows. Garrus wasn’t surprised. They might have lacked in threatening physical appearance, but sure made up for it in other ways. Like having two krogans fill in for intimidation.

“You want to disappear, _-kssh-_ I assume? Or your friend?” He glanced at Shepard. “I have no discount _-kssh-_ for couples.”

Garrus held back a frustrated sigh.

“I’m more interested in making someone re-appear.”

The volus took a step back.

“That’s not among my _-kssh-_ services.”

“I’m not negotiating.” Garrus straightened his back, as if he wasn’t already towering above the volus.

“Neither am _-kssh-_ I.”

Now the shotguns were aimed at Garrus. He was fairly certain that Shepard’s hand was hovering over her pistol too.

"You should. You see…” he cocked his head slightly to the side, “my friend here knows a thing or two about disappearing.”

_Hopefully Shepard won’t take this the wrong way._

“You might have heard about a certain Earth-clan woman” he continued in a grave voice. “First Spectre of her kind. Took down Saren and his geth. Reported as Killed In Action two years ago.”

As if on cue, the Commander stepped forward into the light of the lamps.

The reaction she elicited was proof enough of her reputation. The krogans looked at each other, before putting their weapons away. The volus’s breathing sped up as he glanced between Shepard, Garrus and his bodyguards. His breather could barely keep up the pace.

“Damn _-kssh-_ it. I’m not _-kssh_ \- paid enough _-kssh-_ for this!”

Garrus’s mandibles flickered in a smug smile.

“So?”

“I’m not your _-kssh-_ man.” The volus raised his hands in a defensive motion. “The real Fade _-kssh-_ is paying me to play _-kssh-_ customer service. If you want _-kssh-_ a refund, you need to take it _-kssh-_ to him personally.”

“Where?” Garrus’s patience was wearing thin.

The volus activated his omni-tool.

“I’ll send you _-kssh-_ the location. Fade will be easy _-kssh-_ to find there. But maybe don’t _-kssh-_ tell him I gave in.” He turned to Shepard with what they could only assume to be worry. “Please?”

Garrus received the nav point on his device. 

_Factory district._

“I wouldn’t worry about it.”

The air filter wheezed with the volus’s sharp inhale.

“I see.” He sounded resigned.

“Let’s go.” Garrus turned to Shepard, who was regarding him with raised eyebrows. She seemed to be quite entertained by the scene that unfolded before her. Impressed, even. Maybe this will convince her to let him play Bad Cop more often.

She nodded and they both began walking back to the door.

“A pleasure doing _-kssh-_ business with you” the volus’s defeated voice bid them farewell.

They were a good distance from the warehouse when the Commander finally cracked and began giggling.

“Playing the ‘My Friend The Dead Spectre’ card? That’s cheating Vakarian!”

“Well” he shrugged, “All is fair when you love war.”

“That’s not how that saying goes.”

Sure, Garrus knew that. But it was so damn entertaining to butcher human expressions and watch the reactions that followed.

“By the way-” she drew out the words, “you totally did the Thing.”

“Again with the racism, Commander…”

Shepard’s elbow landed in his side.

“Ouch!” he exclaimed, though he couldn’t feel a thing through his armor. “I can get you arrested for this, you know, right?”

Shepard scoffed.

“Sure, Officer.”

Garrus chuckled. This definitely wasn’t what he expected. Not only that things were seemingly coming together nicely, but… 

He risked a look at Shepard. She was staring ahead, with a wide smile on her face. Pure joy. Garrus felt compelled to sling an arm over her shoulders and pull her closer.

_But why?_

They always bantered on missions. That’s what made working with her such a pleasure in the first place. And her leadership skills, of course. 

_Right. It’s professional. Nothing more._

Sure it happened more often these days, that they teetered on the line of friendly or more. Close contact happened. Like earlier today in the armory, or back on that mercenary base raid. He used her first name and she didn’t mind. Sure, these things happened.

_But…_

“So, I’m thinking another skycar ride is in order.” Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Wh- oh, yes. Right.” Garrus cleared his throat. “To the factory district then.”

 _Can you at least try to keep your mind on the mission,_ he reprimanded himself. All of this could wait until a more convenient time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Clear the room! There’s a fire, a fire, a fire  
> Get going  
> And I’m going to be right behind you
> 
> And if the love of a woman or two, dear  
> Could move you to such heights  
> Then all I can do  
> Is do, my darling, right by you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for MyrddinDerwydd and drladybird for betaing this beast!

As the skycar soared with them towards the mysterious Fade, Garrus tried to remind himself of the reason that brought him here. Sidonis. Ten lives he took. Ten lives he will pay. Whoever Fade was, it didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. One way or another, he will get the information he needs. 

He glanced at Shepard. A restless feeling suggested that the turning point could be coming just now. And when the moment comes, his means might not gain justification from the Commander. She’d been easy on him, so far. There was no need for him to go to extreme lengths. The volus was an easy enough target, even with the two hulks he employed. If the real Fade turned out to be a volus as well -which he deeply doubted-, there will be likely no need to break knees.

But if push comes to shove, he will not hesitate to follow through.

“Are you okay?” Shepard asked. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Yeah. Just thinking about the next step.”

She hummed.

“The real Fade might have competent bodyguards.”

“That’s what I’m thinking too.”

“Good thing we came prepared.” She patted the M-5 Phalanx on her hip. The handgun packed a nice punch and she could definitely make good use of it. Garrus was almost envious.

“You could let me try out that little beast, one time.”

“Are you talking about the pistol, Vakarian? Or me?”

Garrus blinked. The air was caught in his throat. _Yes_ , he wanted to say. Instead what came out was so much worse.

“You wish.”

Shepard giggled, which made his neck flush hot with blood.

“Too bad.”

Suddenly the interior of the car seemed too small and Garrus felt inappropriately close to Shepard. Clueless what to do, he turned to stare out of the window.

It didn’t help much.

_Damn it_ , he thought. Then again. _Damn it! Why did I say that?_

If they landed in the middle of a war zone right now, he really wouldn’t have minded. A perfect distraction and a great excuse to not address whatever just happened.

When the skycar began to descend, he almost let out a silent “thank you” to the Spirits. _Just give someone to shoot already._

His wish must have been heard. While they walked through wide halls packed tight with containers, human voices hit their ears. Right as they turned a corner to the supposed rendez-vous point, they came face to face with the source: a man and two Blue Suns mercenaries.

Fade -a completely bald, rugged human male-, turned towards them. Recognition and panic ran through his pale face.

“Aw, fuck no!”

“Harkin.” Shepard spat out the name with disgust.

Apparently, the former C-SEC officer had found his calling in the world of crime. No wonder Bailey and his team had such a difficult time trying to nail him.

“Quit standing around! Shoot ‘em!” the criminal yelled at the mercs, as he fled out of sight. He didn’t need to ask twice.

Garrus’s shielding rippled with the impact of incoming fire. He jumped behind a pillar, in a dust of concrete and ceramics as the Blue Suns sprayed it with projectiles. He saw Shepard dive into cover behind a large, metal shipping crate. After removing the M-96 Mattock from his back, the weapon quickly unfolded, ready to fire. All he needed was a good opportunity.

A lull in the gun fire implied that their enemies were moving into position too.

Shepard glanced out from beneath her cover.

“Two o’ clock” her voice came through his ear piece. Her left hand shot up with her omni-tool activated. The familiar crackle of an overloaded shield responded.

It took barely more than a moment for him to step out and aim. Another second to pull the trigger. The projectiles hit the mercenary in the shoulder and the neck, after which they crumpled to the floor.

“Nice,” the Commander commented.

“Shit!” The remaining Blue Sun have seemingly realized the futility of her situation. “Shit! Fuck!”

“You might want to reconsider!” Shepard yelled.

“Yeah!” The shaky voice replied. “Don’t shoot! I give up!”

Garrus shook his head in disapproval. But Shepard had signalled him to stand down and she stepped out into the open, towards the enemy. He reluctantly followed suit.

In front of them the merc stood on trembling legs, with her arms raised high. Her face was obscured by her helmet, but Garrus didn’t have to think hard to imagine the look on it. He’d seen this scene play out a couple times before.

“Where has Fade gone to?” the Commander asked.

“T-the abandoned Videoton a-assembly plant,” the merc stuttered. “Got an office in the f-far back. He’s using it.”

“Got more of your buddies in there?” Garrus took over the questioning.

“Y-yeah.”

“How many?”

“Uhm… ah, eight. Eight people. P-please, let me go…”

Garrus turned to Shepard. If it were up to him, it would be two dead Blue Suns on the ground. But she had different ideas.

“Go.” Shepard nodded, “And get a different job!”

“Y-yes ma’am!”

In a blur of blue, she was gone. But not before shouting a belated “thank you” back to them.

“What?” Shepard said to him, upon noticing Garrus’s disapproving look. “You still have eight to shoot, don’t be greedy!”

He scoffed and shook his head. A sharp retort was already on his tongue, but then the voices of Erash, Melenis and Butler silenced his own thoughts. 

They were all former mercs, wanting to atone after realizing the error of their ways. Each had their own stories and that one moment that brought them a change of heart. On plenty of evenings, Garrus listened to them spill their shame and struggles. His friends could’ve been his enemies before.

Now Sidonis had become his enemy.

He lengthened his stride to catch up to Shepard. Once they’ve reached the rusting metal gates, he lifted his sniper rifle to scope out the field. Between the gutted machinery, defunct trucks, and a couple of crates there wasn’t a lot to see. Just like the Blue Sun said, an office building sat at the very end.

“They are hiding well.” He turned back to Shepard. “Waiting for us to walk into their crossfire.”

“We shouldn’t give them that pleasure.”

“Definitely not.” Garrus flapped his mandibles in a smirk.

He looked around, gaze settling on the neighbouring building’s fire escape ladder. It appeared to be unsupervised as well.

“If I get up there,” he pointed at it, “I can snipe them down real nicely.”

“And I can flush them out for you.”

She met his eyes without a hint of fear in them. There was no doubt about her capabilities, but sending in her alone still made Garrus feel uneasy.

“I’ll watch your back.”

“I know.” She reassured him with a smile, “that’s why I’m not even worried about it.”

Shepard stayed at the gates as he quickly made his way up the ladder. Luckily it wasn’t the squeaky kind that would’ve given away his location at every small movement. Didn’t take him long to find a suitable window either. The view was perfect.

“I’m in position,” he said after he settled down.

“Roger that” her voice came through the communicator, calm as ever. “Moving in.”

Projectiles began zipping around her as soon as she stepped foot inside the yard. Shepard moved fast, from cover to cover while her shields kept her safe just long enough. When the Blue Suns began to move around to keep her in sight, Garrus started to pick them off. Their confusion in turn gave an excellent opening for Shepard to fire back. It was amazing to watch how efficiently she worked and Garrus had to remind himself to keep his sights on the bad guys, not her.

Shepard let loose an attack drone on them, just to add one more element of fun to the battle. The Blue Suns’ last bit of coordination had been destroyed.

“Nice work!” Garrus cheered when the last mercenary’s head exploded from the Phalanx’s fire.

“Thanks,” the Commander’s breathy voice answered. “And you didn’t even shoot me this time.”

“You’re gonna keep bringing that one up, huh?”

“For the rest of our lives, Vakarian.”

Garrus sighed, ignoring the warm and fuzzy feelings stirring inside him.

“I’m gonna see if I can get back down closer to the office building.” He changed the subject.

“Good. I’m going to move up closer too.”

Through a broken window and across the top a well placed container, he quickly found himself back on the ground. Shepard was waiting for him just a couple steps ahead. The office building laid before them, only metres away. Harkin must have been hiding in there, probably with a gun in hand.

“Let’s skip the routine this time,” Garrus said as they walked up to the entrance. “Just let me handle this.”

Shepard gave him a long look before she replied.

“Sure.”

The door was locked, but that meant no challenge for Shepard. She found the electrical panel controlling the lock with ease and made quick work on it. As soon as it slid open, Garrus barged inside. As expected, Harkin shot at him, but even at this range it wasn’t enough to harm him. He wrestled the M-3 Predator out of the man’s hand, before grabbing him by the neck. Harkin let out a gurgling noise as Garrus slammed him into the wall, sending some trash and paper flying. Surprisingly the human managed to stay upright, although wheezing and coughing.

“What do you want?” Harkin croaked as blood trickled from his nose.

“You helped a turian get a new identity. Sidonis.” Garrus stepped closer. “Where is he?”

“Fuck off.” 

Harkin yelped in pain as Garrus’s fist connected with his stomach.

“I can do this all day,” he growled, and raised his fist again. “Where is Sidonis?”

Garrus could feel a red haze settling over his mind. An urge was growing to wipe that stupid smile off his face. Bash his head open. 

The guy let out a bitter laugh.

“Look at you… Omega really stripped away all that pretense from you. You’re a true bastard now.” He spit out. “Always enjoyed beating suspects a little too much, didn’t ya?”

Garrus punched.

“Where-”

Again.

“Is-”

And again, making Harkin slump to the floor amidst pained cries.

“Sidonis?”

Garrus placed his boot on the man’s neck. Harkin squirmed under it, slamming his fists against Garrus’s leg in a futile attempt.

“Talk while you still have a working windpipe.”

Harkin was choking, unable to get a word out. Garrus watched, not perturbed in the slightest. A strong hand grabbed his arm, yanking him backwards. Garrus freed himself and spun around, expecting another enemy. Instead, he was met by Shepard’s concerned face.

“Enough!” 

Her voice hit him like a sobering slap.

He looked back at the figure on the ground trying to catch his breath. Shepard stepped up next to him and crouched down.

“You know there is no other way out of this,” she said to Harkin. “It’s only going to get worse if you resist.”

“Fuckin’ hell…” Harkin gasped, “aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

“I got better.”

Harking scoffed. He slowly stood up, a bit wobbly from the beating he just received.

“Shit, fine,” he grumbled as he made his way to the desk. After some searching on his console he opened up a document.

“This him?” He gestured at the attached photo.

Garrus stepped closer. The name said Pallix Desfi, but Sidonis’s face stared back at him from the screen, eyes wide with guilt. He could feel his heartbeat rise.

“Yes.”

He turned back to the man, fists balled up. Harkin winced away.

“Now call him and set a meeting. Make it important.”

Harkin wiped off the blood from his face, then initiated a call from his console. Garrus stepped out of sight, but kept his eyes on the screen. His body felt hot with anger, but the blood in his veins stinged like ice. After a few seconds Sidonis accepted the call and his face appeared.

“Fade?” he sounded anxious. “What happened?”

Hearing his voice made Garrus’s stomach churn with disgust.

“Your identity has been compromised.” Harkin talked rapidly. “I need you to meet up with an agent of mine.”

“Wh- how?”

“I don’t have time to explain! You wanna live, you better listen to me!”

“I- okay. Okay.” Sidonis took a deep breath. “I’ll be there.”

“Good. I’ll send you the nav point now.”

Harkin glanced over at Shepard. She held up her left hand, with the index and middle finger extended. The man acknowledged it with a subtle nod.

“You have two hours. Don’t be late!” Harkin instructed Sidonis.

“Got it. I won’t.”

Harkin ended the call. He activated his omni-tool and soon both Garrus and Shepard’s device pinged with the promised location.

“There” he grumbled. “Am I off the hook now?”

“Absolutely not,” Shepard replied. “But C-SEC will take over from here.”

Garrus’s gaze shot to Shepard. He really wouldn’t have minded putting a bullet in Harkin’s knees. Or head.

Shepard knitted her eyebrows. She wasn’t about to open up an argument, Garrus understood.

“Call Bailey,” she ordered him. “Tell him he’s got some Blue Suns to clean up, and a Harkin to lock up.”

“Right away.”

The officer was overjoyed and reassured Garrus that his people were already on the way. Those shots earlier were reported by some poor factory worker.

As promised, soon enough the sound of C-SEC Kodiaks landing on the factory yard filtered inside the building. The look on Harkin’s face was almost as satisfying as punching him had been. Garrus was pretty sure it would be a long, long time before he could walk free again. Surely no one was going to miss him.

The police didn’t have a lot of questions for Shepard or him. She confirmed shooting the Blue Suns. The rest fell under Spectre authority.

As the Kodiaks were preparing to leave, the two of them started to make their way back to their skycar. Garrus hurried ahead, not wanting to linger around any longer than necessary. But once again, he felt a strong grip on his arm pulling him back.

Baffled, he turned around to meet Shepard’s equally perplexed face.

_Here it comes_ , he braced against the reprimands that were about to hit. It wouldn’t be the first time that she called him out on excessive force.

“Mind sharing where you’re going?” She asked.

Garrus blinked.

“Our skycar?” He returned the question. “As far as I’m concerned, we have a criminal to catch.”

“Catch…” Shepard repeated, raising an eyebrow at him. “I recall you expressing a wish to terminate this person.”

His mandibles flicked with slight annoyance.

“Yes. We have his location, all we need to do is get going.”

_We are wasting our time_ , his subvocals rumbled in protest.

Shepard cocked her head to the side, gesturing at the police vehicles behind.

“C-SEC is still here, if we handed over the information they could safely apprehend Sidonis. No need to complicate things.”

“There is no complication!” Garrus objected a bit louder than he intended. “We get to the agreed location and I shoot his damned head off! Simple!”

“Are _you_ in charge, Vakarian?” Her voice was even and low. 

Shepard didn’t need to yell to get her point across. The heat of shame enveloped around Garrus’s throat.

“No, Ma’am.”

“Is shooting an assumed civilian in plain sight your idea of a good plan?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“Good. Because we are not going to follow that.” Shepard let him go and took her direction towards their skycar. “You better think fast and come up with something better on the way.”

Garrus followed behind. Neither of them said a word more as they walked and later during the drive. With hindsight, it seemed ludicrous what a jovial mood they were in before. He could only blame himself really.

_I got ahead of myself_ , he noted with a sour taste in his mouth. _She is still my commanding officer. Just because we..._

His thoughts trailed off, reminiscing on Shepard’s laughter and the scent of her shampoo. Her hand was so gentle before. Now he could still recall the force of her fingers on his arm.

He glanced over to the driver’s side. The tension was clear in Shepard’s clenched jaw and the way she gripped the steering.

Whatever has been going on between them before, it was over. _Better this way_ , Garrus told himself. At least now he could keep his head straight, solely focused on the mission.

Sidonis was going to walk right into their trap. He will watch the realization set in on his face. He is going to kill him, and-

He couldn’t fill out the rest. The future seemed blank, empty. Whatever awaited him after all was done, it was a damn mystery to himself.

He was watching the map while Shepard drove. Their locator inched closer to the meeting point. The anticipation was sending shivers down his spine.

“We’re almost there,” he breathed.

He looked out the window to what appeared to be a commercial district. A lot of different people were moving about their day.

_Too many people_ , he noted with a frown. _Harkin did this on purpose._

“Not a good spot,” Shepard confirmed. Her voice was matter of fact, detached.

“Put the car down here,” Garrus pointed at a parking lot, “we’ll walk the rest.”

"Sure.”

After they landed, Garrus led them to an elevated walkway that looked over the square. Sidonis still had thirty minutes to arrive and he needed the perfect vantage point for the kill.

“You can’t shoot him here.” Shepard gestured at the civilians. “No need to traumatize these people.”

Garrus paced around. He wasn’t a fan of last minute complications, but of course going against Shepard’s will would just waste more time at this point. No time for debates.

“Are we going to abduct him? What is your plan?” she sounded impatient.

Garrus paused.

“No.” He opened up the map on his omni-tool. “You’re going to lead him away into this alley. Should be clear. I’m going up into the maintenance walkway and taking the shot from there.”

He looked back at Shepard.

“Easy.”

She didn’t seem pleased. For a moment, Garrus was sure she was going to start arguing. Or walk away from it all. From him.

This is not how he wanted it to be. But there was no turning back now.

“All right,” she said at last. “I’ll do it.”

After they parted ways, a bad feeling lingered around Garrus. Like things could fall apart at any second. He watched Shepard from high above, as she leaned against the wall with her arms folded. Again, the distance felt more than physical. Just like back on that wretched station.

Sidonis could arrive any second now. He scoped around, feeling the anxiety rise behind his keel.

_What if he bailed… What if Harkin had outplayed them? If Sidonis found out, there was no way he could catch him again._

A familiar shape entered the Mantis’s scope.

“He’s here.” There was no need for him to whisper, but he couldn’t help it. His throat felt tight and dry.

“Where?” 

Shepard perked up, looking around.

“Under the Tupari sign, to your left. He’s shorter than most turians with purple markings. All black clothing.”

“I see him,” Shepard answered and began walking towards Sidonis. Slowly, much slower than Garrus would have preferred.

_I could just shoot him. Get over it._

Shepard finally reached his old friend and target.

“Lantar Sidonis?”

“Yes?” his voice filtered through Shepard’s communicator. Garrus could hear him take a deep breath.

“Wait… I know you.”

_Crap._

“You do?” Shepard sounded just as surprised. Neither of them counted on Sidonis recognizing her.

“Yes, you are Commander Shepard.” Sidonis nodded. “I remember seeing the news about you. And-”

He seemed to hesitate.

“Garrus talked about you. A lot.”

Garrus could slap himself in the face.

_“I did… crap, I did.”_

“I… see.” Shepard rubbed her neck.

“He’s here, isn’t he?” Sidonis asked. He didn’t sound terrified at all. “I imagine if dead Spectres can come alive, then he could have survived as well. Unless… you came to take revenge for his death.”

“He’s alive. I got him out of there.”

Sidonis exhaled deeply, like a heavy weight rolled off his chest.

“Thank the Spirits. I was already… it’s good that at least he-”

“I’m taking the shot, Shepard” Garrus growled. He had no reason to listen to another word.

To his dismay, the Commander stepped closer to the other turian. Completely obscuring his view.

_“Shepard! Move!”_

“He’s here to kill you, Sidonis,” Shepard continued.

_“What are you doing? Shepard?”_

“Oh…” Sidonis shrugged with resignation. “That’s fair. I should have died there anyway, every day is a reminder of that. Every nightmare.”

His knees buckled, but Shepard caught him. Still not leaving a clear line of sight.

“I let them die!” Sidonis was almost whimpering. “They were my friends and I sold them out, because I… because I wasn’t ready to die for them!”

Garrus caught the notes of his warbled subvocals, heavy with grief.

“I wanted to live… but now I have nothing left to live for.” Sidonis’s voice had become muffled as he buried his face in his hands. “Nothing at all!”

“There is nothing left to kill.” Shepard pointed out, more to Garrus than Sidonis.

He hesitated. Ever since leaving Omega, he had been waiting for this moment. In his mind, Sidonis was smug, boastful even or at least terrified of what was coming for him. But the person wailing in his ear was simply broken. Irrevocably.

“You can’t bring them back. Neither of you can.” Shepard’s soothing voice came through. “The dead can’t absolve you from what you’ve done; you better take responsibility for your own life by making something good out of it.”

Garrus squeezed his eyes shut. For a while, he could only hear his own heavy breathing.

“Let him go, Shepard” he said at last with a trembling voice. “It’s over.”

“Take back your life, Sidonis. Don’t waste this chance.”

“Thank you… tell… please tell Garrus I won’t forget this.”

The channel went silent. Garrus straightened up and put away the Mantis rifle without another look in the scope. He slumped against the safety railing, resting his head against his knees. His body felt heavy, aching. Like the weight of the entire universe was pushing down on him and there was nothing to keep up against it.

The minutes felt like hours, until he heard footsteps approaching. Without looking up, he knew it was the Commander.

The steps stopped next to him. She sat down and Garrus could feel the weight of her pressing against his side.

“I’m sorry Garrus.” Her voice sounded soft, but pained. “I know how much this hurts.”

He let out a shaky breath. His head felt like it was full of lead, as he raised it to look at Shepard. In the darkness of the corridor only the blue light of her visor illuminated Shepard’s face. Wrinkles of worry crossed her features.

“You do?” He didn’t mean the question to sound cynical, but it sure came out that way.

“You think I didn’t want revenge for my family? My friends?” She whispered. “I signed up so I could get out and hunt down the people that ruined my life. I threw myself into the rage, the thrilling promise of vengeance.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, sparkling in the light.

“It took me years until I burned out. Until I saw that no matter how many batarians I gun down, nothing will bring them back… my parents, my grandmother, my best friends… Mindoir will always be as it is, bearing the absence of the people that were killed.”

She shook her head.

“Remembering is one hell of a burden. But this is not how you should ease it, Garrus.”

“I…” he hesitated. The words jumbled up in his mind. “I don’t know how to live with this.”

“It’s not easy, but I’m here. I got your back.” She nudged him gently. “You’re not alone in this fight and I’ll remind you as often as needed.”

“You’re not pissed at me for dragging you into this?” He asked warily.

“A little. But I know where it’s all coming from.” The corners of her mouth turned into a smile. “I know you, Garrus.”

His mandibles fluttered in a sad little smile. From where he was looking at it, the world still seemed ultimately crappy and doomed. But he had to admit, Shepard made it a little brighter. Even if they were just sitting on the dirty floor in the darkness.

“I’m a lucky guy,” he murmured, “to have you.”

He could swear Shepard blushed. Once again he was overcome with the urge to pull her close, envelop her in his arms. Feel her warmth against the cold universe.

Instead he decided to stare at his boots.

Shepard fiddled with her own gloves and they both sat in silence for a long minute.

“Do you wanna sit here for the rest of eternity,” she asked finally, “or should we head out somewhere nicer?”

“Yeah, I think I’ve had enough of dark places for today.”

He stood up, then helped pull Shepard to her feet. Despite some inner yearning, he decided to not hold on to her hand.

Back in the skycar he leaned back into the comfort of the seat. Deep in thought, he stirred when something touched his hand. He looked down to see her hand placed over it. Without an ounce of hesitation, he curled his fingers over hers. An anchor to keep him from drifting into the darkness.

He didn’t really wonder where they were going. They could’ve been in an alternate dimension, for all he cared. Nothing else mattered, as long as Lina was there next to him.


End file.
